“They only find them so because of the menacing under-layer; it discourages analysis.”
Sicarius did not respond, though he did give her a long scrutinizing look. It failed to achieve menace status, though she did wonder what he was thinking.
“Are you saying I’m incorrect in my assumptions?” Amaranthe asked. “That you weren’t thinking I was crazy?”
“No.”
“I thought not.” She pointed to the doorknob. “Are you going to open that or stand there caressing it until dawn? I only ask because such effort seems wasted on a door.”
He stared at her, neither removing his hand nor responding to the comment… until he said, “I am vastly pleased that you are not dead.”
Amaranthe bit down on her lip to restrain the toothy grin that wanted to dance across her face. Vastly. Not even Sespian had earned such a riotously enthusiastic adverb from him. Still, she couldn’t help but tease… “I appreciate the sentiment very much, but when you say things like that, you should bounce on your toes or wiggle your hips or let out some physical manifestation of your emotional exuberance. It helps relay the message.”
Sicarius looked down at himself. “My… hips?”
“Never mind.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek before dropping her hand to his. They opened the door together.
She’d figured everyone inside would have their heads bent over the table, intent on their plots and machinations. But Starcrest spread a hand toward them as soon as they entered.
“Precisely who I wished to see.”
He, Ridgecrest, a pair of colonels, Books, Sespian, Tikaya, and Mahliki all sat around the table, with the two women sharing a corner opposite the window. Mahliki was smirking, and Amaranthe would have calculated the angle required for her to have witnessed that conversation and quick kiss-surely the door had blocked her and Sicarius’s private moment together? — but Starcrest was pinning her with his serious, legendary-admiral gaze.
“Sir?” she asked. “Or did you mean…” She nodded toward Sicarius. Given how much Starcrest meant to Sicarius, he’d probably appreciate being the one the retired admiral wished “to see.”
“Both of you,” Starcrest said. “Especially Sicarius.”
Though he stood behind Amaranthe, she sensed him straighten to rigid attention. “Sir?” he asked.
She smiled, warmed by the earnestness in the single syllable. Would Starcrest recognize the feeling in it? Few people she’d met read the faint nuances in Sicarius’s seeming monotone.
Yes, the “sir” caused genuine warmth to spawn in Starcrest’s eyes, she was certain of it. He understood. Even if his wife never would. Tikaya was shifting uncertainly at this first face-to-face meeting with Sicarius since their adventure-misadventure? — twenty years earlier.
“Flintcrest is dealing with our diversions,” Starcrest said. “The loss of his wizard hasn’t derailed him.”
No, Amaranthe thought, if the expression she’d seen on Flintcrest’s face when he’d been arguing with the Nurian had been typical, he’d appreciate the loss of the wizard.
“Heroncrest has troops in the streets,” Starcrest continued, “but we also believe he’s scheming up something, an attack with the tunnel-boring machines perhaps. Marblecrest is holed up in the Barracks with his most trusted forces. It seems this brave soul is worried about food and water shortages and, rather than venturing out to do anything to this perceived threat to the city, has decided to hide and wait out the chaos.”
“There are several months’ worth of food and water in the Barracks,” Sespian said. “Enough to supply the entire staff and guard regiment.”
“Marblecrest will have more people in there than that,” Books said, his fingers laced on the table, “but the stores will still keep them supplied through a short siege.”
“What a heroic individual,” Tikaya said. “Is he truly related to your comrade who helped us in the ship?”
Amaranthe nodded. “Maldynado’s older brother.”
“Remarkable.”
“Does the older brother wear silly hats too?” Mahliki asked.
“I don’t know,” Amaranthe said, “but the only time I’ve seen him, it was in a clothing store.”
Starcrest lifted a hand and the room fell silent. “Strictly speaking, controlling the Imperial Barracks doesn’t offer a military advantage, but it is symbolic, and now that the civilians are in the streets, many taking up arms, it could be important to make a visible move that resonates in the minds of the populace. Also, capturing one of our enemies and convincing him that no, he does not want the position of emperor, would simplify things.” He’d been speaking to everyone, but now he focused on Amaranthe and Sicarius. “I understand you’ve both been in the Barracks and are aware of alternative entrances.”
“I’m only aware of escaping the Barracks,” Amaranthe said.
“We can get in,” Sicarius said.
“Won’t those wards have been reset?” Books asked.
“We can take Akstyr,” Sicarius said. “He can further refine his system for altering the plane on which the wards operate.”
“You’ll want to take your whole team for this,” Starcrest said.
“You want us to do more than sneak in and kidnap him?” Amaranthe asked.
“That’s a possibility, but I’d prefer having the Barracks taken over and the doors thrown open for us.” He nodded, in particular, at Sespian.
“Didn’t you say there are thousands of people in there?” Amaranthe asked.
“Yes, I imagine it’d take some unique scheme to get the best of them. I understand that’s your specialty.”
Books smirked at Amaranthe. “How’s it feel having your own spiel played on you?”
“Odd,” she admitted. “I suppose once one had control of Marblecrest, one could control his legions. They might desert on the spot after realizing they’d chosen to side with the wrong candidate. Though it’d be nice to have some kind of distraction to keep people busy while we swoop in and locate the general.”
Starcrest nodded, encouraging her, she thought.
“When I escaped from the dungeon, I distracted my guards with jars containing… I’m not certain I ever got the real name, but they called them Fangs. They transmit Hysintunga, a fatal disease. I was already infected, so the bugs didn’t matter to me, but they terrified the guards. Of course, I only had to scare four people then, not four thousand.”
“Fangs?” Mahliki perked up. “You mean Mexisahil creatat order eractus?”
“Ugly black bugs, halfway between a lizard and a wasp?” Amaranthe asked.
“That’s them.”
“Know where we could find any around here?” For a second, Amaranthe had a vision of thousands of soldiers fleeing the Imperial Barracks, their arms flailing about their heads as they strove to ward off attacks. Then she remembered the men she’d shared a cell with, men she’d watched die from the disease. “No, never mind. I wouldn’t wish that punishment on anyone, certainly not fellow Turgonians.”
“They’re native to the equatorial regions anyway,” Mihlaki said, “though there are other insects with properties that could be exploited in… interesting manners.” She tapped her chin.
“I like interesting,” Amaranthe said encouragingly.
“As do I.” Starcrest gave his daughter a fond smile.
Mahliki opened her jacket, causing dozens of tiny clinks. Amaranthe couldn’t guess when she’d found time to dig under the ice or whatever she’d been doing, but she’d filled a number of those vials. “Not these… We’d need… Hm, I need to think. I’m not as familiar with this area as my own climate, but I have a bunch of books in the submarine. And Lonaeo has been studying entomology longer than I have. He might have some ideas. I’ll go talk to him.”
“If you’re able to come up with a useful solution,” Tikaya said, “make sure their team can employ it without needing an entomologist along on the incursion.”